


Cherubino

by doobieace



Category: Le nozze di Figaro | The Marriage of Figaro - Mozart/Da Ponte
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Sexual Content, born female rasied male, sexual awakening, some lust with a dash of masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:52:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3521351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doobieace/pseuds/doobieace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cherubino was born a female, but for the chance at more opportunity, his father raised him as a boy. Gender was never an issue until Cherubino started to work at Almaviva castle, and the women there awaken feelings he hadn't known before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherubino

The page Cherubino, the flirty young boy around the Almaviva castle, was not born a boy. His parents came from a poor rural estate, and his mother died in childbirth. Cherubino’s father wanted every opportunity for his child, every chance of honor and riches a female with lack of nobility could hardly attain outside of marriage. And so it was that the motherless newborn was named Cherubino.

An angel that boy was, as he grew up happily on the small farm his father painstakingly tried to upkeep himself. A small grove next to the house was a frequent play area for the young toddler, digging a garden in the sun. Not a day went by that Cherubino didn’t come in for dinner with his knees and clothes dusted with dirt, a grin on his face. His father wondered if he could sense his mother in that grove, where she spent the most time during her pregnancy reading and planting her own _giardino_.

He took a natural liking to the few sheep and goats they had. His father began teaching him how to care for the animals very early on, and the toddler would ride on the goat beside his father as the older man sowed the rows of the field one by one.

“I don’t want you to just be the son of a poor vegetable farmer, Cherubino,” the man would say, the sun glaring down on them as straw hats shielded their eyes. Workbooks and other literature worked well enough for the father to educate his son. Poetry such as Guido Cavalcanti and sonnets of Lentini and others were kept around from the man’s parents. He let Cherubino page through them, and listen as his father read from the worn Bible kept in the family for generations, the ornate designs of the cover faded from time.

However much his father would have wanted company on the farm, it would be best for Cherubino to find an apprenticeship somewhere in the city. Rosina Almaviva, the Countess of the local nobility, happened to be a distant cousin of Cherubino’s late mother. Claiming Cherubino as her godson, the Countess put in a good word to the Count so the boy could apprentice for work within the castle.

And so, the boy learned how to navigate the castle and became the page, running errands and sending messages. His father was pleased to see his boy in formal clothing and mingling with such nobility. It was a respectable place to be.

Cherubino knew his job was important, and even took pride in it with how pleased his father was. But - the restless boy was easily swayed to boredom. He would hum to himself from where he stood and get distracted, but otherwise wasn’t too much of a troublemaker. At least, before he started to notice women.

Cherubino had never been conscious of his body, or anyone else’s body, until he was at the castle for a few years. There was a woman with long curls of hair and a curvy body accentuated by her dress, her breasts protruding from the bust as if it was too small for her. And yet the woman moved gracefully, beautifully, like an angel dancing along a cloud. Cherubino had felt his heart start to beat wildly, and his palms were sweaty and his mouth dry. So shocked was he by this that he looked inward, unable to tear his eyes from the woman until she had gone away. He tentatively touched a hand to his chest. The other hand slapped above the other immediately, and he could still feel the anxious fluttering of his heart. What was happening?

It happened again, as Cherubino was sent to buy eggs from a local farmer. The daughter answered the door, dressed in only a thin dress and her long hair curled along her face, her eyes framed by long lashes. Cherubino could barely squeak out why he had come, what he had been sent for. The girl’s body drew Cherubino’s eyes along with every movement, the curve of her back, the tan of her calves, the pink of her toes. Suddenly she was right in front of him and he gasped sharply yet softly, and she smiled. Several seconds passed and Cherubino, with a red, flushed face, left before his absence would be missed.

These interactions happened over and over again, because there were women everywhere! Every corner seemed to have a lady tucked away, to pop out and walk by only as Cherubino was present. With so much time between tasks the Count or more often higher servants would ask of him, Cherubino learned to flirt with the women. He would tease them lightly, compliment them, breeze a soft hand along a girl’s arm until she giggled. Girls would start to giggle just walking by him, and others would flirt right back. Cherubino would live off of those interactions, a warm feeling filling his entire body. It was the most amazing thing - until they were gone again, until Cherubino couldn’t smell that feminine perfume smell anymore. 

He craved to touch, to be with those women. This yearning overcame him, and night or day he got no rest from it. He would dream of soft bodies and soft lips, and awake with a desire he couldn’t place. These feelings were the most amazing, delightful thing - yet terrible. And yet so wonderful. 

The Countess would sit for dinner, and Cherubino couldn’t think of anything but her. A sigh would linger behind his lips, but he had to contain it. He knew it would sound amazed yet wretchedly miserable, such was the yearning that he felt. _Misera me_ , Cherubino would internally lament.

Cherubino knew he was a boy, and everyone knew him as such. But as he became a whole lot more interested in people’s bodies than before, curious things began to edge the rim of his thought. Woman all had curvy, delightful bodies - soft, pale skin and plump lips, and shiny hair. Men, in contrast, had stronger features, with flat chests and flat movements. Cherubino didn’t think much about it, for he was still not fully grown - but he had assumed that everyone wasn’t truly flat-chested, which was why Cherubino would bind his small, budding breasts just as all the other men seemed to. The fashion, it seemed. Cherubino would style his hair like many of the men too, though it was longer than the others because the thick, shiny locks would grow faster.

Figaro, the Count’s manservant, would say Cherubino had a rosy, womanish complexion. And if Susanna teased that he was paler than her, it was just another one of those quirks Cherubino thought was just individual to him. 

That day, an encounter with Barbarina turned into an innocent interaction...on Barbarina’s bed. She had responded to his flirting with a light kiss on the cheek, and Cherubino swept her close to him around the waist excitedly. Barbarina flung them onto the bed, and suddenly Cherubino was doing what he had wanted to for ages, with anyone. He was too eager to do it right, though - the loving kisses he had imagined setting to skin were rushed, and he was kissing along her neck with such passion as Barbarina giggled softly and clung to Cherubino, one hand on his back and another at his hip...Cherubino gasped, and he felt warmth pool to his belly. With one hand Barbarina had started to undo the top of Cherubino’s shirt button, and Cherubino was almost too excited to feel a tinge of hesitancy. At the back of his mind, Cherubino was almost a little grateful for the Count’s interruption shortly after.

Cherubino’s curiosity in others’ bodies was brought to a sudden revelation when he walked in on two people making love.

Cherubino had gasped and after only a few seconds, but too many seconds, of staring, stuttered, _“Perdonami!”_ before slamming the doors shut.

He paced away quickly, the scene in his mind clashing with what he had thought he knew. The man’s sharp, strong body and the woman’s soft one, and the exact way he had been pleasing her.

Cherubino entered his own quarters, just a small room with a tall window and small bed. Despite the cool night the room was stuffy, as it always was. Breathing irregularly, he started to remove his clothes. His breeches, the colorful waistcoat. Everything was dropped to the floor, and then Cherubino was unwrapping the cloth fashioned around his chest. Finally he stood in front of the mirror, bare. And he was not unlike the women he has seen. 

The breasts smaller, but the hips wider than any boy’s. The arms paler than any boy’s, the skin softer and smoother than any male Cherubino had ever seen. 

Cherubino sat on the bed, his legs no longer able to hold him. Lost, he began to lightly traces his hands along his body, and a curious sensation met Cherubino as his hand met between his legs. It was warm, and soon his fingers were slipping slowly along the soft, wet flesh. Small shocks of sensation flashed behind Cherubino’s eyes, and he gasped as his hand quickened its pace. With some unknown instinct urged by only sensation, Cherubino turned over and was above the hand below him, rutting into it as he became more and more wet from the contact. He thought of soft skin and protruding breasts, of melodious voices, of Barbarina’s hand on his waist. His skin was hot, and his heart beat loudly in his ears, barely heard over his quiet moans.

With a sudden, soft cry, Cherubino came from the touches, quivering for several seconds as the intensity shook through him. Shock overtook Cherubino, the muddled inability to form a full thought hanging in the air like smoke as he lay there, naked and flushed. Eventually, he found thin nightclothes to cover himself as the moon barely shown in from the window. 

He slept, and somehow nothing had changed by the next day. He awoke to thoughts of yearning, and this time he knew how to help it. He wore his same colorful clothes and gazed at the women he met, warmth spreading through his body as his imagination started up. How lucky it was, to share something as intimate with those he loved as the body.

**Author's Note:**

> Specifically, the Cherubino I picture is Marina Comparato, whose performance can be viewed on DVD or straight off of YouTube. I really love the character, and had to write something to work out Cherubino's possible side of things. Given that this ficlet takes place before the beginning of the opera, I might write additional chapters for throughout the show to further explore the complexity of Cherubino's gender and sexuality.


End file.
